


Don't Get Caught

by London_Fog



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London_Fog/pseuds/London_Fog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rules are only broken if they get caught. (AKA the one where everyone but Tony is a prefect, because he gets caught blowing things up too often.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Get Caught

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the idea of XMFC(Charles and Erik) and The Avengers gangs being in the same age group. I DECLARE THAT TO BE EARTH 718. THERE. And this is a HP AU of 718. DOUBLE THERE. Another thing I found sitting in my folders. I think that’s all the completed-but-forgotten writing I have for now.

 

Loki glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, his eyes narrowing when he noticed Thor moving from the Gryffindor table and announcing something to Tony Stark and Charles Xavier. Beside him, Erik shifted, and sighed when he followed Loki’s line of sight.

“They’re having a drinking contest tonight.” Loki murmured softly, frowning as he read their lips carefully. “Trophy room, midnight. Stark appears to have invented a charm to turn intruders away. Password is…” Loki frowned again “Iron-stark?”

Erik snorted. “Typical.”

Loki smirked slyly. “We can’t fault them for handing opportunities to the Slytherin prefects.” He remarked, before glancing up at the enchanted ceiling, studying the sky. “I’ll see you at 11.30 in the common room tonight. We have a prey to crush.”

Erik nodded, and Loki departed from their table.

Over at the Ravenclaw table, Charles turned towards him and winked. Erik coughed, and moved away as well, fully intending to get to his History of Magic class before he changed his mind and babbled to Charles about their awareness of the midnight escapade in a moment of weakness. Charles seemed to have powers of persuasion that put him second to only Loki.

When he left the Great Hall though, Steve Rogers was outside waiting for him.

“Steve.” Erik said, nodding. The Hufflepuff perfect had the same Herbology and History classes as Erik, but it was in the latter where they bonded well, despite their largely differing views that they held during debates.

Steve waved a hand in acknowledgement, and the both of them walked towards their classroom. Steve was frowning, and Erik recognised that sign.

“Er. Did you want to say something?”

Steve blinked and stared at him. “Well. Yes.” He jerked his head towards the Great Hall. “You know they’re up to something, don’t you?”

Erik smiled. “Who?”

Steve groaned. “No, that’s not going to work on me. You know what I meant.” They headed up a flight of stairs that swerved right slowly as they got on it, and carefully avoided the step that had a tendency to lose its corporeality.

“Alright, alright.” Erik glanced behind him, just in case Loki was listening in behind him. Knowing Loki though, he’d probably expected it. Steve Rogers had always had a sixth sense for knowing when Tony Stark was about to get involved in something stupid. “Midnight, trophy room.” He said, as they climbed yet another set of stairs. The portrait of a lady sniffed in disdain as they wandered past her. “You could meet us along the Charms corridor.”

 

Steve beamed happily. “I’ve always known I could rely on you.” And that was the end of their conversation, as they pushed open the door to the classroom.

* * *

Erik was reading in the common room when, at precisely 11.30, Loki swept up the flight of stairs from the dormitories and nodded at him. Erik closed his book, and left it on the table as he joined Loki to stride out of the dungeon.

“Steve is waiting for us by the Charms corridor.” Loki raised an eyebrow as he said that. “An alliance between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin prefects is always helpful, especially when there are so few willing to walk beside us.” Erik defended.

Loki smirked. “No need to explain to me, Erik. I’ve always trusted that you knew what you’re doing. Him, on the other hand…” Loki waved a hand behind them, and a very ugly squawk sounded.

The both of them paused in their stride to turn their attention to Clint, who had fallen from the ceiling, a silvery coat at his feet. Beside him, Natasha materialised, pulling off her own Invisibility Cloak as Clint brushed dust off himself. Clint scowled.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He demanded.

Loki pointed at his prefect badge coolly. “Prefect work.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and stepped forward. “And we’re prefects too.” She said, Clint’s badge and her own gleaming in the dull candle light.

Erik scowled, prodding at his own. “We all are. Can we get a move on? I don’t like standing out here in the cold.”

Clint crossed his arms, the Cloak that was folded on it shimmered softly. “Fine. But we’re coming. Us Slytherin prefects have to work together.”

Loki considered him carefully, before sighing. “Fine. As long as I get to see Thor’s great face of surprise when we march in on him,” he said, and they paced along the corridor, trying to make up for lost time.

When they reached the Charms corridor, Steve was already there.

“I didn’t realise Loki was bringing an army,” he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not part of his army.” Clint grumbled. Natasha elbowed him discreetly.

Erik shrugged, waving a hand for Steve to join them as Loki continued striding towards the trophy room. “Password’s Iron Stark, by the way.” He said, and waited for three nods of confirmation.

A left turn, three flights of stairs, and a winding corridor later, the group reached the passageway that led to the room. Erik watched as Loki cleared his throat, and murmured ‘Iron Stark’ at the door. He followed suit, as did the others behind him, and the door swung open, and they marched in, Loki’s face smugly triumphant.

Somebody had conjured up a glass table in the middle of the room, and cartons of firewhiskey littered the floor, bottles lying haphazardly all over. Tony stared at them blearily. “How did you get in? This is a private party.” He brandished a full bottle of drink around, the liquid sloshing about and spilling out.

Behind Erik, Steve sighed. “Stark, you’re drunk.”

“Steeeeeve!” Tony lamented. Erik heard Clint snigger loudly behind him. “Come! Come drink with us!”

Erik shook his head, and moved to where Charles was lying underneath the table, whispering softly to himself in his sleep. Whatever he was dreaming of must have been rather pleasing, because Charles was smiling away like a loon. For a moment, he thought he heard the sound of a camera shutter, but… well. Whatever sound that could have been made would have been drowned out by Loki and Thor’s very loud conversation. Loud on Thor’s side, mostly.  

“It was a loss, but it was a glorious loss!” Thor was proclaiming.

“What in Merlin are you talking about?” Loki despaired tiredly. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?”

“Ah, it is not so simple, brother!” Thor boomed. Erik wondered why the entire school had not woken up yet. Probably another enchantment on Tony’s part.  “In this tournament, it is he who falls first that is the victor!”

Well, Erik guessed that meant Charles was the night’s winner, then. He turned and saw Loki staring incredulously at Thor. “Surely you must not be so foolish! Were you already drunk when you accepted this?” Loki sighed. “Well, it was a fairly good trick, I’ll admit.”

Charles was proving to be surprisingly heavy, and leaning on to him like a limpet, preventing him from reaching his wand. Note to self, stop sticking wand into back pocket. From the corner of his eye, he saw Natasha and Clint waving their wands around to clear the bottles. “Hey, I need a stretcher!” He barked.

Clint scowled. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“I’m your senior.” Erik glared.

Clint threw his hands up and muttered something about ‘authority’ and ‘abuse’, but pulled up a stretcher, all the same.

Erik grinned sharkily. “You’ll get your turn next year.” He said smoothly, as he helped Charles onto the stretcher.

“We should get them to their dorms.” Steve remarked, Tony’s arm slung around his shoulder as he determinedly ignored Tony’s nonsensical babbling.

“Bruce might have a remedy to sober them up.” Natasha volunteered. “I believe he’s still awake now.”

Loki nodded, and shot a look at Thor. “Seeing as you’re still well and decidedly undrunk, take Xavier and Stark back to the Ravenclaw common room. When the Eagle asks you the riddle, the answer is ‘feather’.”

Thor frowned. “We are equals, brother. I do not see why you ought to order me around.”

Loki regarded him smugly. “Ah, but I can tattle. How would darling Father feel if he found out his dear, perfect Thor was found drinking away like a common rug in school?”

“He would be proud?”

Loki contemplated that. “Well. All right, maybe. But your Head of House may not feel that way.”

Thor sighed. “You make a fair point, brother!” Thor waved his wand lazily, and the stretcher that held Charles ghosted away from Erik gently. “To the House where the wittiest dwell, then!” He affirmed, and sauntered out of the room.

Steve nodded at them. “I’ll go with him.” Beside him, Tony was beginning to wax really bad poetry. Steve sighed, and dragged him out, trailing behind Thor.

The trophy room was now much emptier, with the cartons of alcohol cleared. Loki was shooting Natasha and Clint looks of irritation.

“Why are you still here?” Loki was saying, as Erik waved the table, the last of the party evidence, away. “Go on. Shoo.”

“Why?” Clint demanded. “Up to something?”

Loki snorted. “None of your business.” Loki turned a pointed look to Erik, eyebrow raised impatiently. Erik looked from him to the pair, and back to him again.

“Well,” he said slowly, “It’s not like they could be shaken off?” Erik knew that to be a fact. Clint and Natasha could be really persistent if they wanted to, and Loki’s behaviour was probably suspicious enough to draw their attention.

Loki appeared to be considering it carefully, before he relented. “Fine. But if anyone finds out, it’ll be your head my wand’s meeting.” He said, before sweeping out of the trophy room. Erik followed, and going by the barely-audible footsteps behind him, Clint and Natasha were too.

They didn’t exchange another word until they reached the seventh floor, and Loki stopped in front of an empty wall, and begin pacing about.

“What-?” Natasha started, but Erik shook his head.

“Lounge.” Loki said simply, directing it at them, and vanished into the wall. If Erik hadn’t seen it before, he might have gasped. A bit.

“Can I get an explanation or something?” Clint soured in slight displeasure.

“Think of a lounge, and walk past the wall three times.” Erik instructed. He rolled his eyes when Natasha and Clint exchange sceptical glances. “Go on. You don’t want to be found hanging around here, do you?”

He smirked when they did as he said, and smirked harder when their eyes widened after their third passing. With a brief nod, Clint and Natasha disappeared behind the wall as well, and Erik followed soon after.

The lounge was, well, warm. Green chaise lounges welcomed him, complemented by green rugs and draperies and a flame cackled softly by the stone fireplace. It looked rather like the Slytherin common room, actually, which was a slight surprise to Erik, because Loki usually imagined a lounge that was more reminiscent of what Erik suspected to be Loki’s home.

If Erik was the sort to bet, he would be willing to gamble that the room looked the way it did now because of Clint’s and Natasha’s presence. He shot a knowing smirk at Loki, who rolled his eyes and conjured up a few bottles of Superior Red.

Clint sat up from where he was lazing at. “That’s wine.” He accused. “Oh, are you serious? We just caught three people for drinking! I bet you’ve been doing this for a long time. How did you get made prefect anyway? Don’t you ever get caught?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Loki huffed, though Erik saw a note of mild amusement. “I don’t do anything if there’s a chance that I’ll be.” He waved his wand, and a bottle floated over to Clint and Natasha. “Now drink, since you seem to be all about house unity.”

Clint shrugged. “Well, I’m not going to say no to alcohol,” and with that, he grabbed the bottle. “’Tasha gets to be my witness if I fall over and die of poisoning.” Erik watched as he whispered something to Natasha quietly. Knowing Clint, it was probably about the bezoar in his pocket.

 

A wine glass floated beside him, and Erik took it. Loki raised his glass at him in a toast, and Erik returned it.

* * *

It was another four months of weekly quiet lounging in the Room of Requirement, or as Erik liked to put it: getting themselves drunk on really great wine with three other people. It used to be just Loki and him, but Clint and Natasha were surprisingly good company, and even Loki agreed with that, albeit grudgingly. Tony strode in on to them one day as he was talking distractedly to Charles.

“-see, I told you! There totally is a hidden lounge on the seventh floor-” He broke off when he saw four unexpected people watching him. Erik watched Tony’s eyes wander to the bottles on the table. “You’re drinking!” He yelled, before turning to Charles again excitedly. “Quick, use your prefect powers! Revenge is  _so_  sweet.”

Charles looked around the room, before settling on Erik with an odd look on his face, “Erik, as a prefect, I should-“

“-Join us for a glass of wine?” Erik interrupted smoothly. He ignored the glower Loki shot him. Charles’ face softened, and he punched Erik in the shoulder lightly.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this. We were supposed to be  _friends_.” Charles said, but in good humour.

“If the Ravenclaws have invaded the Slytherin prefect hideout, can we ask Bruce along next time?” Clint asked loudly from some corner. “Nah, I’m totally asking Bruce.”

“And Steve and Thor too.” Tony said, and took a drink from a bottle. “Not bad. Good stuff.” He said, impressed. “Have you got more?”

Loki’s face seemed to darken even more, if possible, before he eventually decided on saying, “Oh, I don’t care anymore. I’ve only got a few months left anyway.” He said to the room, before directing his glare at Erik. “This is your fault. Completely and utterly.”

Erik shrugged, as Tony remarked loudly about how a few splashes of red and gold would be nice.

Well, that’s life, right?


End file.
